


Name Your Price

by 13Vivacious13, Rueitae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fantasy AU, Fey AU, Fey Lance, Human Pidge, Kidnapped, Magic, Minor Violence, Seelie Lance, Unseelie Court, flirtyrobot, pidgance, plance, this is heavily inspired by tam lin tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-10-30 00:44:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17818595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13Vivacious13/pseuds/13Vivacious13, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: Humans and Fey aren't meant to mingle, let alone fall in love. Trapped by Faerie law and a tyrannical Queen, Lance and Pidge must fight for their freedom, their love, and their lives.





	1. Caught

**Author's Note:**

> Viva has chapters 1 and 3, Rueitae has chapter 2! Enjoy!

Even after seven hundred years, Lance still couldn’t repress a shiver as he descended into the bowels of the Court. The earth itself smelled dank and fetid, and the dim purple lanterns illuminating each tunnel did little to counteract the claustrophobic atmosphere. Two boggarts chattered with malevolent glee as they slithered past his ankles, eager to go hunting now that the sun was well beyond the horizon. Lance shuddered and pulled his coat tighter around him.

He only had dim memories of his former Court, but he knew it had been better than this.

The main banquet hall provided a small reprieve from the gloom. It’s dome-like ceiling stretched up to nearly fifty feet, supported by the spider web masses of roots from the ash trees above. A few of the Queen’s favorites were already gathered around the long banquet tables, laughing loudly and yelling for the slaves to hurry up with their food. One of the slaves, a human captured years ago, tripped and fell to the ground. The bottle he was holding broke and the robes of the nearest courtiers were splattered with dark red drops of wine. The angered Fey swarmed on the hapless slave, kicking and shoving him until he collapsed and curled into a quivering ball. 

Lance shuddered and edged along the wall, hoping to slip past and escape to his own quarters. To his chagrin, Macidus caught sight of him just as he was about to duck into another hallway. He held out his hand in a silent order and Lance froze on instinct. Macidus swept toward him, the crowd scattered like sheep before a wolf. 

Cringing under the impassive stare of those pale yellow eyes, Lance clasped his hands behind his back and ducked his head respectfully. After a moment of silent contemplation that sent cold sweat trickling down Lance’s spine, Macidus finally said, “Her Majesty wishes to see you.” 

“I- W-what?” The Queen’s gaunt druid towered over him, and Lance had to crane his head back to look him in the eye. Macidus nodded. 

“But why-?” 

“Immediately. Go now.”

Blinking and nodding, Lance waited until the grim Fey had turned away before darting into the hall. Once he’d rounded the corner he stopped and leaned against the wall, his knees unable to properly support him for a few seconds. 

Why did the Queen want to see him of all people? He was the lowest of the low, a charity case. 

_What if she knew?_ Lance pressed a palm to his heaving chest and tried to steady his breathing. He had little success. What if she’d found out about his twilight excursions? What if she knew about-? 

If he kept her waiting, it would only be more suspicious. 

He patted his cheeks and forced himself to take three deep breaths. There was too much at stake, and neither he nor his beloved could afford for him to give away their secret with wild eyes and a sickly pallor. 

The Queen probably didn’t know. She probably wanted to see him on some other matter.

He repeated this over and over as he pushed himself toward the Queen’s private audience room. The tunnels got brighter as he approached the heart of the hill, the lanterns replaced by glowing mosaics of crystals. They depicted scenes of hunts and parties, the wild times before humans had driven his kind underground with cold iron. He passed several courtiers along the way, all of them ogling him in surprise. Someone like him rarely walked these halls. 

Lance reached the gilded door sooner than he wanted. Two guards eyed him suspiciously, hesitating just long enough to be annoying before stepping aside. He reached for the handle, but the door swung open before he could touch it.

“Enter, child.” 

He shuffled across the threshold, yelping when the door slammed shut behind him. Lance took a moment to look at the moss covering the floor in a thick rug, the chandelier formed from twisted vines and shining blue lights, and the small table covered in a silk tablecloth before daring to meet Queen Honerva’s gaze. 

As the oldest Unseelie in the Court, she was by far imbued with the most majick. Even now, as she rested on a low divan and picked at a bowl of fruit, he could feel her power radiating through the room, seeping into his bones and curling around his limbs in an act of lazy possession. The Queen pulled back her long white hair in a graceful sweep and motioned for him to sit in a chair opposite her. When Lance paused, she crooked her fingers and his legs stumbled forward of their own accord. He quickly took the hint and scrambled to sit down. 

A plate of food materialized in front of him. He shook his head and swallowed thickly. Nausea clawed at his throat, exacerbated by the Queen’s magic settling in his stomach like a coiled snake. 

The Queen smiled and plucked a pear from the bowl. “I hear you’ve been up to much mischief,” she said, her raspy voice taking on a soothing tone Lance dared not trust. 

Had someone spotted him? One of her familiars? Lance tried to smirk. “Isn’t that a good thing, my Queen?” he asked, managing to sound cocky despite his pounding heart. 

“Of course… under normal circumstances.” She tossed the pear aside with bored abandon and leaned forward, trapping his gaze. “But you aren’t terrorizing farmers and making travelers lose their way, now are you?” 

Lance bit his lip. Perhaps she didn’t know. Perhaps she only suspected, and was trying to get him to confess. “No, Majesty, I haven’t. I’ve never found much enjoyment in those sorts of pranks. But if you need me to spend more time tricking humans, your Majesty, I can certainly fit it into my schedule…”  

He should have known better, the Queen was not a patient woman. Her mouth hardened into a jagged knife. “Child, _I know_.”

She lunged forward, her long fingernails digging into his skin as she gripped his jaw and pulled him until their noses were barely an inch apart. 

“Is it possible you have forgotten?” she hissed. “Do you not remember what happened to your Court? How humans came with their swords and slaughtered your kin? How they burned your forest to the ground until you were left with nothing but piles of ash for a home?”

Her grip tightened and pained tears trickled down his cheeks. “Majesty… please…”

“ _I_ gave you shelter! _I_ took you in when my druids told me to turn you away! And now you repay me by sneaking out and fraternizing with a human girl, endangering _my_ Court with your recklessness!” 

The Queen let him go and he slumped back into the chair. Spots danced in front of his eyes and for a moment he thought he was going to pass out. Then her magic was writhing into his thoughts, dampening his terror-stricken emotions until he was left numb and compliant. She reached out again, soft and benevolent, and tilted his chin up. 

“Forgive my outburst, child. You are young, and not the first in this Court to make such a mistake.” The glowing anger in her golden gaze faded into a deceptive simmer. “What is her name?” 

Lively brown eyes and a teasing smile blotted out his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut before the Queen could brush the rebellious image away. “She calls herself Pidge,” he replied carefully, truthfully. 

“And will she return tomorrow night?” 

Yes, she’d said she had something special planned for tomorrow. His silence, just a beat too long, was answer enough. 

The Queen hummed and drew away, her black robe rippling behind her. “We will deal with her then. You are confined to the Court until-” 

“No!” Lance leapt out of the chair and collapsed at her feet, clutching her skirt. “Majesty, please! Don’t hurt her! Please, she’s done no harm to this Court. Please!” His babbling turned into panicked sobs. He couldn’t lose his beloved, he couldn’t, he couldn’t. 

The Queen actually knelt down and placed her hands over his, gently prying them away from her dress. She tsked and rubbed a cold thumb over the silvery scar in his palm. 

“Child, if you want the human as a pet, all you have to do is bring it to Court.”


	2. The Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Pidge...

Pidge stared long and hard into the mirror, examining herself with great scrutiny. Her long hair was held up in a messy bun, her mother’s old earrings inserted into holes she’d hastily created that morning. She adjusted her favorite necklace, making sure the turquoise pendant was centered properly on her chest. 

She didn’t need to be wearing her best dress. She didn’t need to be wearing a tiny bit of makeup, especially not when her mother was planning to sell it for additional funds the family sorely needed. 

Lance didn’t care about things like that - not with her -  but she wanted to look nice tonight because it was special and she wanted him to know that. 

Tonight she was going to tell him she loved him, and depending on how things went, her real name. 

She set her most precious possession on the nightstand. The iron bracelet her father had crafted specifically for her had saved Pidge from the Fey thus far, even back when she hadn’t realized its protective properties. Tonight she couldn’t take it, so for now it would be safe in her bedroom. 

Pidge didn’t want to hurt Lance when she mustered up the courage to kiss him. 

She trusted him, but that did not extend to the rest of his kind. She couldn’t stay out long tonight.

The bun wasn’t working. She undid it, and fashioned a ponytail. Pidge smiled. That was much better. If she wanted short hair she’d cut it.

She crept through the house, careful not to wake the rest of her family. The horses too were quiet, knowing the one who brushed them, as she made her way through their landlord’s barn. Not a complete fool, she took a horseshoe with her, something that could easily be deposited at the edge of the forest and well within reach. 

Once far enough out into the pasture, the flutter and happiness in her heart increased and she could not stop the grin that grew on her face. Her careful walking turned into a sprint for the treeline. Lance would be waiting for her just past the fence. 

Her mother and her past self would have admonished her for leaving the horseshoe on top of the wooden post. Under normal circumstances she’d be signing her life away.

The difference now was that she trusted Lance. His early attempts to get her and her iron out of the forest and away from him seemed a lingering dream. 

A plot of beautiful white flowers beckoned her from just inside the forest. The petals shimmered and glowed in the pale moonlight. 

He was here early. 

“What? Not going to take advantage of the situation and surprise me?” she aired smugly and breathlessly, panting through her wide smile. She crossed her arms comfortably. “You’re getting complacent.”

She expected a playful remark in return, perhaps joke about how dressed up she was when all they did at night was adventure through the forest. 

“You have to leave,” Lance said, his voice soft and trembling just behind her ear.

Pidge turned to face him, about to tease him about his sour tone and chide him for sneaking up on her once again. Her heart sank when she beheld his tired eyes, traced with fear. A sense of foreboding fell into her stomach. If Lance was afraid, then she had every reason to be. 

Her mind raced, searching behind Lance for anything suspicious. She needed the horseshoe. She needed to get out of the forest.

“Please. She knows,” he begged urgently. “I love you too much. Don’t come back here. Not ever. This,” he gestured between the two of them, “isn’t worth your freedom.”

Her busy mind stopped, all else forgotten but for why she wanted to come tonight in the first place. 

Pidge took his hand. It was soft and warm, not unlike a human at all. Lance winced, but once he realized her touch was not painful, he gasped and locked eyes with her. His eyes were even wider now and his hand trembled in her own.

“You didn’t bring any iron with you,” he breathed in horror. He tugged on her arm, still facing her as he guided her to the fence with haste. “You can’t… Pidge, why?” 

Pulling him back into her arms, she showed him. 

Pidge had dreamt about this kiss. His warm magic tingled on her lips and she pressed harder in ecstasy when he adjusted the grip on her arm with fervor. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and sucked deep, asking for more - only for him to pull away abruptly. 

“You don’t want this,” he told her. “You won’t ever be able to go back home.”

“I love you.” She took his face in her hands. His words poisoned their moment together, how good it felt to finally be able to hold him. “I want to trust you with my name,” she blurted. 

“Not tonight,” he said hurriedly. A sob muddled his speech. “Please, Pidge. Go home while you still can.”

“Not until you promise I’ll see you again,” she insisted. Logically, Pidge knew she needed to listen to him. But with only his face in her vision, her heart refused to catch up to her brain. 

Without an answer, Lance shoved her roughly behind him. The leaves rustled, the ones of darkest color coming together to form a tall woman, white hair a stark contrast to the dark.

Her yellow eyes penetrated Pidge’s soul and rooted her to the spot. Pidge was conscious enough to try and move her feet, but found them as heavy as stone. 

Pidge felt the magic invade, snaking slowly up her frozen legs. Words wanted to form on Pidge’s lips, but did not come in the overwhelming presence of the Unseelie Queen she’d heard so much about. She swallowed hard, her lungs tightening in fear. 

“I have not been this amused for hundreds of years,” the Queen said. “Your attachment to it is precious. It is time to take her home.”

Lance dropped to his knees and bowed his head in earnest. “Majesty, please. I beg you to let her go.”

Guilt swallowed her faster than the magic. Lance had tried to save her - was still trying to save her - and in the excitement that had been building up in her all day Pidge had ignored him to speak her heart. It had doomed her. Their outings had been discovered and judged not in their favor. This was the Queen Honerva she’d heard about, the same powerful and malevolent villain in most children’s stories from the village. 

She was about to become one of those tales. Lance was going to take her to the world of the Fey tonight, and it was the Queen’s intention for Pidge never to return home. 

Pidge refused to let her ending be the same as in the stories.

Her hand grasped the back of Lance’s shirt, far more steady and calm than her rapidly beating heart should allow. 

She glared at the Queen. “You - you can’t — “ the words of protest were lost in the evening breeze. She wanted - needed - to fight. There was always a loophole with Fey, some way to trap them in their own words. Surely her brain could get them out of this if she could only speak! 

If not...

Her family would have that much more food between the three of them. A better chance to survive the winter with her father’s meager salary. She’d miss them every day, and they would be heartbroken at her disappearance, but there was a clear and logical advantage to being taken. Now that it seemed imminent and the choice taken from her, Pidge felt shame for entertaining the concept of running away many a time as her feelings for Lance grew. She could never truly want to leave them.

She shoved the thoughts of her family to the back of her mind. Right now she needed to take care of Lance and let him know she was processing her options. She could wallow in guilt later, right now she was in need of a plan.

The immobility spread to her legs. There was some magic afoot with a timer she wasn’t aware of. 

“It’s okay,” she told him quietly, mind spinning, considering options. Her gaze drifted to the Queen. There was no sympathy to be had. Pidge curled her fist in defiance while it still could - the spell just now reaching her waist. “Do what you have to.”

Lance twisted to face her. His anguished expression told Pidge that she should be far more afraid than she was. “I don’t want this for you,” he said.

“You should listen, Child,” Honerva said. She extended her index finger and gracefully cut through the air with her long nails. Magical sparkles congealed into a brilliant silver rope. It floated to the ground as a leaf before Lance. “The choice is yours. Claim the human, or let it become stone.”

The sharp intake of breath was her own. She held her arms out, and now they shook. “We can talk later. Go ahead.”

Lance was on his feet, rope in hand, before she finished. He hesitated only briefly, staring at her body’s slow transformation to stone. Pidge sucked in a breath, surprised when it felt stunted. The spell now touched her lungs.

The feeling abated almost instantly when Lance tied the first knot around her wrists, weaving the rope around them securely. It was enchanted, Pidge could tell that at least. But even as she tested its strength - causing it to tighten even further - the weight in her chest lifted. Flesh once more, her legs wobbled and gave out - unprepared to hold her weight so suddenly.

“Are you all right?” Lance asked, already kneeling beside her.

“I’m fine,” she desperately reassured him. “Now what?” she asked the Queen, willing herself to look as intimidating as possible and prepared to listen closely to her wording. 

“Your promptness has earned you some favor, mortal. Continue in kind and you may live past your years at my Court.” Leaves swirled around the hem of the Queen’s dress as she approached. Lance winced as she stroked her long fingers through his hair.

The loose end of the rope rose to the Queen’s hand with a curl of her finger. She knelt beside Lance, invading the intimacy Pidge had created with him in this moment and destroying all false sense of security. 

She gently dropped the rope into Lance’s hands, his face twisting into a horrified disgust. “Bring your pet. It is time to go home and away from the stench of mortals,” she finished with a sneer. 

Pidge bristled as the Queen dissipated before her eyes, reemerging in a puff of shadow with a dark carriage. 

“I’m not a pet,” she blurted. 

Before Pidge could blink, boney hands cupped her face, sharp nails threatened to puncture her skin. 

“You are lower than a hare, for even they can be a tasty meal,” Honerva told her. Ice filled Pidge’s veins, unsure if it was magic or pure fear. “Once he has grown tired of you, you will live to pay for humanity’s crimes.”

Lance wedged himself between them. His hands squeezed her arms and warmth spread across her body once more. “I won’t,” he quickly interjected. 

He met her eyes. Fey could not lie, but there was no inkling of half truth in his words. He’d meant that first ‘I love you’ just as she’d meant that first kiss. 

Adrenaline washed away and Pidge rested her head on Lance’s chest. She needed to save her strength. Eating anything given to her was the one sure way she could never go home, so she needed to hold on until she gained access to a library. A glimmer of hope rose in her chest that perhaps there was a way to escape that mortals were unaware of. Something easier than catching the Queen in her own words.

First she needed to expedite her capture. The clock was ticking.

So she stood. “I’m ready.”.

“I commend your mortal’s practicality,” the Queen told Lance, already standing over them both. “Come. We will feast in honor of your first Unseelie deed.”

She snapped her fingers and two separate doors opened on the carriage, gesturing to the one in the rear. 

Pidge took a deep breath and gathered her nerves, tunneling her vision towards the door. She walked forward, making every effort to display pride and confidence. Inside her stomach flipped with every step.

Lance walked at her side in silence, offering a supportive hand at her back. 

Once at the door, Pidge bunched up her dress to more easily climb the stairs. 

“Wait, let me help,” Lance said. He jumped inside and lifted her up with him, gently guiding her to sit in the plush purple cushions. 

A table materialized between the seats, covered in a spread of fruits, nuts, and cheeses.

“You would do well to eat something, human,” Honerva said. “A great feast can last for days, and you will be too busy serving to eat.” Pidge gasped at dark tendrils of smoke rounded her neck, punctuating the threat. “Make it special for Lance.”

The door shut with a resounding thud. The magic left abruptly, and the carriage began to move shortly after.

Lance sat next to her, giving more distance between them than either were used to. He remained silent, the opposite of his usual animated self. It enhanced the uncomfortable and nervous air. 

“So… do I look okay?” she asked, making an effort to break the ice for him - and for her own sanity. She needed his companionship more than ever right now. 

Lance blinked in surprise. It was easier now in the artificial light of the coach to see the red trim in his eyes. He’d been crying long before the night began. “What?”

Pidge forced herself to smile - to put on the air of ease Lance always managed to shower her with. “The get-up,” she clarified. “We’re going to your Court right? Seems like a thing I should look presentable for.” She started to fiddle with the fabric of her dress as she rambled. “I did it for you, of course, not for them. But now that we’re going I just thought how funny it is that I’m dressed for the occasion.”

Lance was quiet for a moment as he took in her words. His lips quivered and eyes shone with tears.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he sobbed, bowing his head onto her shoulder. “This is all my fault. I should have been more careful. I was so stupid to think she would ignore me.”

“It’s just as much my fault as yours,” Pidge told him, taking part of his arm in her hands awkwardly.  “I could have brought some iron with me.”

Lance shook his head. “It wouldn’t have mattered. You’ve seen first hand what she can do. I can’t - she owns my name. I can’t do anything to help you.”

It stung her heart to think about the bleak future. “I kept coming into the woods for you, Lance,” she stressed. “I - I’ll miss my family, of course. But I wanted to be with you somehow. I’m not ready to give up, but if this is it, then so be it.”

“No, absolutely not,” Lance insisted, meeting her eyes. “If there is a way to get you back home before you starve we will find it. I care about you too much to see you stuck there. It isn’t a place for humans.”

“If there’s a way, I will find it,” she told him confidently. She was more learned than most people her age, so if she could not find a way with Lance’s help, then there truly was none. “But, if not… I’ll give you my name.”

“You can’t trust me with it anymore. Don’t you dare speak it,” Lance said firmly. He gently took her bound hands in his, overlapping the rope, so for just a moment, she could forget it wasn’t there. 

“No matter what happens, I’m here for you,” he promised. 

Pidge leaned into his chest, feeling more secure as his arms wrapped around her - an anchor to the present. His summer-like warmth soothed into her skin and with her eyes closed she focused on his beating heart. 

Lance was incapable of lying, she reminded herself. They’d find a way out of this together. 

She didn’t remember when she started crying, but by the time she did there was a pool of tears already on Lance’s shirt. 

True to his word, Lance refused to let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. This looks bad for our heroes.


	3. Tricked

True to Queen Honerva’s word, the feast lasted three days. Katie’s dull human senses were overwhelmed within the first hour by the dancing lights and shimmering illusions bedecking the banquet hall. The ceiling was filled with giant bubbles, each glowing with purple and grey hues, and streamers as delicate as cobwebs swayed over the crowded tables. Even the cutlery was extravagant, solid gold and studded with garnets and rubies.

And the food! Most of the dishes were completely foreign to Katie, but they all smelled delicious. Fish and beef and mutton, leafy salads and thick stews, piles upon piles of fruit stacked in perfect pyramids. An entire table devoted to pastries and sweetmeats, another to wine and brandy. Carrying steaming trays of delicacies for hours on end and resisting the urge to have one… little… taste… was maddening. She distracted herself by observing everything around her, which wasn’t hard.

Spacious as it was, the hall was filled to bursting with fantastical creatures Katie had only heard of in fairytales. There were other humans serving alongside her, lean, pitiful things in barely serviceable rags. All of her attempts to talk to them were met with mute stares. After a while, they began to avoid her. It wasn’t hard, the Court were a demanding bunch. Any platter of food or pitcher of wine placed on the table would be gone within minutes, and there was seemingly no end to their appetites. Katie learned to sidestep leering sprites who stuck out their knobbly legs in an attempt to trip her. The fey were less kind, they pinched and prodded her incessantly when they wanted her attention. She could feel her arms turning into black and blue noodles.

But at least they were expected. She was expecting the clusters of dwarves placing bets with bags of glittering gems, and the thumb-sized pixies that flew in dizzying circles around goblets until they were swatted away - Lance had told her about those. It was the murky shapes that oozed across tabletops and swallowed unsuspecting goblins that took her by surprise. So did the skeletal figures with burning eyes that cackled and lunged at her with mad abandon, only to lurch back at the last second and laugh even harder. Every ghoul and ghost from her nightmares appeared, summoned by the Fey Queen’s call.

Eventually, Katie became numb to the surreality of the situation. Perhaps it was simply shock or exhaustion, but she no longer flinched when tangled shadows took on physical forms and scampered past her legs.

More likely than not it was exhaustion. And dehydration.

The Queen sat at the head of the great table, surrounded by Unseelie dressed up in dark finery. Seated at her right, small between flowing silks and dripping jewelry, was Lance. His eyes always found her in the crowd, and sometimes he would smile. Mostly, he just gave her doleful looks that broke her heart to see. She always smiled back, determined to keep his optimism from slipping.

The work was tedious enough, giving her mind the freedom to roam and, more importantly, plot. Confined to the hall and the kitchen, she’d had no opportunity to look for any libraries or repositories of knowledge. Obtaining access as soon as possible would be crucial to her plans. There were the old stories, of course. The ones grandparents told their grandchildren to scare them into being good. But most of those stories ended with the hapless human being tricked (often in horrible ways) by the fey. And yet, there was always a loophole in the stories. Creatures of magic were bound by laws that humans could ignore or exploit, it was the price for their power. In any case, she couldn’t give up. She refused to be ground down to a hopeless shell.

As the feast started to wind down, clumps of fey trickled out of the hall. The Queen leaned back in her throne and closed her eyes. Katie watched Lance lean in and whisper something in Haggar’s ear, and the slight nod sent him scurrying away. He shoved a couple dwarves out of the way when they didn’t move fast enough, earning a few scowls and curses as he skidded to a halt in front of her.

“C'mon,” he whispered, cupping her cheek with one hand and gripping her shoulder tight with the other. He scanned her up and down, his gaze darkening at the bruises littering her arms.

Katie blinked and looked around. “Am I allowed…?”

“Yes.”

He pulled her away, out of the hall. With each twist and turn the noise faded, leaving her with only the ringing in her ears and blood pounding in her sore feet. The hallways became a darker, less ornate until they were little more than bare tunnels. Lesser fey scurried past them, their eyes shining gold against the somber brown and black of the walls. Lance only slowed down when they reached a plain wooden door tucked away in a nook. He waved his hand across it, a faint click followed and the door creaked open.

His room was spartan, barely more than a cubby with a bed, wardrobe, and nightstand. The sight of the bed sent a wave of lethargy over Katie, and she nearly toppled over right then and there. She didn’t protest when Lance scooped her up and set her down on the mattress. The pillow was thin and ragged, but it felt like heaven against her throbbing head. She breathed in deep, taking in the scent of damp earth while Lance removed her shoes and hissed over the blisters on her heels.

“Here.”

Katie cracked an eye open just enough to see the waterskin he was offering.

“It’s from the river by your village,” he explained, gently lifting her into a semi-sitting position. “It’s safe, not of fey origin.”

A feral will to survive bubbled up in her dry throat, and she snatched the skin from him with a soft gasp. Cool bliss seeped into her bones as she drank the waterskin dry, squeezing until every last drop landed on her parched tongue.

Some of the throbbing pain behind her eyes dissipated, just enough for her to sit up on her own and settle against Lance’s shoulder. “What now?”

Lance sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You need to rest, I’m sorry I couldn’t get us away sooner, Pidge… I’m sorry I couldn’t-” He had the nerve to look offended when she slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t worry about that. Does this Court have a library of some kind?” Katie asked. Excitement bubbled up in her throat at the thought. Back before her family had been exiled, she’d spent more time in the Capitol public library than she had at home. The village was sorely lacking in books, and the thought of getting her hands on some made her fingers itch.

Pulling her hand away, Lance nodded without much enthusiasm. “Yes, we have a repository, but only the Queen’s scholars are allowed to enter.” Something akin to shame flickered across his features. “I’m about as lowly a courtier as you can get, there’s no way I’d be able to get us in. I’m so-” He dodged her hand.

Katie settled for smoothing back his bangs. “Maybe not as lowly as you think? The Queen just threw a banquet for you.”

“Ha!” Lance barked, his eyes hardening. “She only paid me any attention because of you. The Queen hates humans for what they did to her husband and son and looks down on fey who try to coexist with them. That banquet wasn’t for me, it was to put me in my place. She wanted to remind me that I could never- That I shouldn’t-” His eyes glazed over, breath hitching.

“Lance!” Katie leaned in, cupping his face.

Her touch seemed to help. He blinked back in an instant. The fear in his shoulders melted and he slumped against her. “I hate it here,” he whispered. “I was so stupid, all those years ago- actually wanting to be a part of her court.”

Katie ran a soothing hand down his back. “We’re both getting out of here.”

“She has my name.”

“I don’t care.”

Her stomach rumbled, cutting off his reply. Lance’s low exhale tickled her shoulder. “I need to find you some human food.”

Katie snorted. “Human food? What am I, your…?”

He tensed beneath her, and she cursed her lack of tact. For all intents and purposes, she was his pet. She opened her mouth, perhaps to apologize, but he silenced her with a kiss to the cheek.

“Yeah, you need a nap,” he chuckled, too forced to do either of them any good. He stood and stretched a bit. “I’ll be back soon.”

He left her on the bed, ducking out of the room after briefly checking the corridor. With nothing to do, Katie settled back onto the mattress and closed her eyes.

So… perhaps getting to a library wasn’t an option. She pushed aside the heavy feeling of disappointment and returned her mind to the problem at hand. There had to be other ways. An intrinsic part of magic was that nothing was irreversible. If it could be done, there was a way it could be undone. At least, that was how all the books she’d read on magic explained it, not that she’d devoted much of her studies to the arcane.

She couldn’t put as much energy as she would have liked to the problem, not with her body’s needs forcing themselves on her with increasing insistence. Between the need to sleep and her ravenous hunger, sleep managed to win.

* * *

 

_Water rushed up and over her, filling her lungs and sweeping her away. There was no fear, no urge to fight for air. She was safe here, safer than she’d ever been. The water - a river now - soothed and shushed her._

_She floated for a small eternity before bothering to look around. Through the distorted veil of the surface, she could see trees rushing by her. Not the thick, branching pines of the forest near her village, but tall oaks and sycamores. She was almost tempted to take a peek out of the water to see what was going on._

_Not that she had a choice. Something changed, the current bucked, and she was flung half out of the water. There was a lake waiting for her at the bottom of a hill, its banks hedged in on all sides by a thick wall of black thorns. The surface of the lake bubbled and thrashed, whipped into a frenzy though there was no wind to warrant it. The sense of safety faded as the river dipped and sped down the hillside. Fear clawed at her throat, but it wasn’t_ her _fear. It was cold and ephemeral, too old to have come from a mind as young as hers, too-_

A thud against the door jerked her from her stupor. She had just enough time to wipe the drool from her mouth before the door shuddered again, followed by a bass growl that scared her more than the blow. Something clicked and the door was promptly kicked open by a hulking brute of a fey. He sneered at her with his one good eye, his hand clamped in a vice-like grip on Lance’s shoulder.

“Pidge-!” Lance gasped, revealing a black eye and several cuts when he looked up.

The taller fey laughed and slammed him against the door frame before letting him fall to the floor.

“Don’t hurt him!” Katie yelled, leaping from the bed. The brute caught her clumsy strike, his hand completely engulfing her small fist.

“This one’s braver than you,” he barked, looking down at Lance with undisguised contempt. He turned away and started dragging Katie with him.

Lance staggered to his feet. “Wait! Don’t-!” He was knocked over again by a backhand.

“You’ll get it back when Her Majesty says,” the brute growled. Katie caught one last glimpse of Lance’s terrified face before several more fey, all of them wearing bulky armor, formed a blockade between them.

It took her all of three seconds to realize struggling would get her nowhere, so she settled for trying to keep up with the fey’s enormous strides. Her attempt to memorize the route was thoroughly dashed, he led her on so many twists and turns she lost track almost immediately. The hallways became lighter, more ornate, and the fey walking down them were dressed in fine silks and satins.

“Where are you taking me?” Katie finally asked. The brute ignored her.

After a few minutes of this, he jerked to a halt in front of a large open doorway. Katie peeked around his bulk.

The room wasn’t as large as the banquet hall, but it had the same high ceilings and gossamer decorations. A throne of cracked stone and winding roots dominated the center, raised above the ring of chairs surrounding it by a grey dais. Honerva stood at the bottom of the dais and was speaking with several courtiers when she caught sight of the large fey and Katie.

“Ah, thank you, Sendak.” She waved a hand and Sendak entered the room. The fey whispered and pointed at Katie, their expressions ranging from curious to repulsed to… well, she fixed her eyes to the hem of her skirt. They stopped a few feet from the Queen and Sendak bowed.  

A cool hand grabbed the back of Katie’s hair and yanked her head up. She tried to maintain the Queen’s slitted, golden stare while not wincing from the painful grip.

“Why do you think our little Lance is willing to defy me - no, not only me, his Queen, but our most sacred laws - for such a speck?” Honerva asked, her gaze never leaving Katie’s face. “I gave him what he wanted, why is he yet unsatisfied? Why does he strive to help this human?”

An uncomfortable murmur ran the length of the room before one small voice piped up. “He is Seelie, Majesty. His kind has an unusual tolerance for humanity.”

The Queen tsked. “We have worked hard to teach him how to behave, have we not? He came to us young, there is no reason why he could not be rehabilitated.”

Pride swelled in Katie’s chest. Lance could never be like these fey. Sure, he was mischievous at times, and sulky when things didn’t go his way, but he still had his compassion, his empathy. He could never sink to the level of malice this Court expected of him.

“He will be thoroughly punished, and you are all to consider him in the most shameful disgrace,“ she continued. "If he wants his toy back, he will have to earn it.”

She snapped her fingers and two more guards entered, dragging Lance between them. His head hung limply, ugly bruises mottling his cheeks and swollen jaw. They threw him at the Queen’s feet, where he groaned and slowly got to his knees.

“Lance!” Katie choked out. Her attempt to rush to his aid resulted in the Queen jerking her head back so hard she screamed.

“Don’t hurt her.” A bit of blueish-green blood dribbled out of Lance’s mouth when he looked up. “Don’t. Please. It’s my fault.”

The Queen heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Child, your mulishness bores me. Is this-” her grip shifted to the back of Katie’s neck and she shook her like a ragdoll, “-worth your standing? Your life?” She sneered. “I think not.”

Katie nearly sobbed in relief when she was released, not caring that the guards grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back. The pain was nothing to the throbbing in her head.

The gathered fey bowed as Honerva swept up the dais and sat on her throne. “Whatever shall I do with you, child? This little experiment of mine has run its course, I think,” she said, her voice light even as her gaze roved over Lance with frustrated disapproval.

Lance looked at Katie, his heart in his eyes. “Do whatever you wish, just don’t hurt her.”

The courtiers tittered amongst themselves, and Sendak let out a bellowing laugh. “It’s pathetic, he’s almost as weak as a human,” he chortled

The insult did more to clear Katie’s head than a four-course meal. She twisted and glared up at the brute. “You underestimate us.”

A chill laugh slithered down Katie’s spine. Honerva leaned back on her throne, an amused curve to her lips. “Humans are about as inconsequential as ants - only ants are hardworking, loyal creatures deserving of praise,” she crooned. “Humans bring nothing of value to the earth. They tear up forests for their machines of war, hunt animals to extinction for ornamentation and praise.” She crooked her finger and an invisible band encircled Katie’s neck and tightened uncomfortably. “You are born to die, yet you can’t even do that with dignity. I can think of nothing weaker.”

Katie swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Would you care to wager on it?”

Lance’s horrified gasp echoed throughout the otherwise silent room.

Her thin smile growing to a devilish leer, the Queen steepled her fingers together. “A wager?”

Katie straightened. “Give me a test, any test, to prove my strength. If I win, you must release me and Lance from your Court.”

“Pidge, no!” Lance hissed.

“Shush!” Katie snapped back. The few stories where humans won against the fey always ended in one of two ways. Either they tricked the fey or they gambled against them and succeeded. The first was unlikely in this case, the Queen doubtless knew any trick Katie could think of, the second almost equally so. But a wager at least held a shred of hope, no matter what odds were stacked against her. Like every aspect of magic, there had to be a level of fairness. The Queen couldn’t give her an impossible task.

After a moment’s hushed silence, Honerva nodded. “Very well, mortal. I accept your terms and give you my own. When you fail, both your life and the life of this Seelie are forfeit.” She motioned to the guards, they released Katie and left the room.

“It’s going to be okay,” Katie murmured as soon as she’d knelt and gathered Lance in her arms. “We’ll leave this place soon.”

Lance crooked a sardonic grin. “One way or another.”

She huffed and wiped his chin with the hem of her dress. “Don’t underestimate me,” she groused. Her expression softened a shade to something repentant. “I can’t lose, not with your life on the line too.”

The kiss, light and unexpected, sent goosebumps prickling down her arms. “I love you, Pidge,” Lance whispered.

A low rumbling from the hall drew everyone’s attention, and room waited with bated breath as the guards returned, pushing a trolley toward the dais. A giant hourglass rested on the trolley, a full head higher than Katie and taller than most of the watching fey. It reminded Katie of the hourglasses used by professors at the royal academy during exams, the ones that could be flipped with the push of a hand. The sand in this glass was silvery grey, twinkling in the dim light.

Honerva held up a hand and all the fey, Lance included, jerked and turned to look at her. She waited until Katie followed suit before speaking. “The challenge is simple. If you can hold on to Lance for seven turns of the glass, you and he are free to leave.”

Katie blinked. “That’s it?”

“That is it.”

She looked at Lance out of the corner of her eye, but he was still staring at the Queen fixedly. His jaw twitched, and he seemed to be trying to speak. There had to be some sort of trick, but she felt her confidence growing nonetheless. She was nothing if not determined, and her brother often complained that her hugs always ended with bruised ribs.

Nodding, she latched her arms around Lance’s waist and even scooted so she could wrap a leg around one of his. He trembled against her, she felt his heart thudding wildly beneath her palm. “Fine. Whenever you’re ready,” she barked.

Honerva smiled. “Let us begin… now.”

The hourglass turned. Lance wheezed and shuddered. Katie felt the sting of the Queen’s magic as it wrapped around Lance’s body, fighting her hold on him. She could only watch as his body contorted and shrank, shifting to something with multiple limbs and a furry body. Disgust and panic stabbed through her chest when she realized she was holding a large, hairy spider in her hands. She bit back a squeal and that first awful instinct to fling it away, ears reddening as the courtiers burst into laughter at her frightened expression.

The Queen raised an eyebrow. “What happened to your bravado, mortal?”

Katie glanced down at the spider. It huddled into a ball of fuzz and all eight eyes were hidden behind its legs. When she poked it with her thumb it - he - flinched. “Lance?” she whispered.

The spider peeked up at her and nodded.

She sighed and settled into a cross-legged position, gently petting the top of Lance’s head. If Honerva thought she could scare her that easily, she had another thing coming. Nearly half the sand had fallen to the bottom by the time Katie thought to take notice of it. How much time had passed? Half a minute? Was the trial only seven minutes?

Everyone hushed and waited while the sand trickled by. The last grain of sand barely had time to fall before the hourglass turned.

Lance writhed again, all of his limbs disappearing and being replaced with smooth scales. More prepared this time, Katie stayed quiet, even as the spider grew into an adder and wrapped itself around her arms. Lance flicked out his tongue and tickled the tip of her nose before curling up in her hands. Some of the courtiers sneered, unhappy at Katie’s boring reaction. The Queen kept smiling.

The hourglass turned.

The scales were again replaced with fur, much thicker and coarser than before. Katie was nearly bowled over as Lance kept growing… and growing… and growing… She latched onto his front leg and held on. Finally able to hug her back, Lance the bear snuggled with her for the third minute.

The hourglass turned.

For a moment Lance was returned to his original form, shaking his head and wincing, before his expression, froze - everything froze - as he was turned into a living ice sculpture. Katie’s hands went numb almost immediately and a dull ache settled in her bones. The fey giggled again at her obvious discomfort. She gritted her teeth and clung to him for the entire minute.

The hourglass turned.

He shrank so fast she almost lost her grip on him. She managed to catch the white-hot coal before it hit the ground and cupped it close to her face. At first, the fiery warmth was a boon to her frozen skin, but by half a minute her hands were covered with burns. Katie carefully juggled it from palm to palm, watching the hourglass with tears in her eyes.

The hourglass turned.

The coal flared up into a small jet of flame before dissipating into heavy smoke. She clawed at it uselessly. How could she hold smoke?!

A nearby fey shrieked with laughter, her veil fluttering like a drunken bird. Snarling, Katie lunged at her, ignoring the screams and gasps as she ripped the veil away. Ballooning the fabric above the rapidly disappearing cloud of smoke, she managed to catch most of it and wrap it against her chest.

The Queen kept smiling.

The hourglass turned.

Claws the size of knives ripped through the sheer fabric before pinning Katie to the ground. Sleek golden fur rippling with muscle blocked her vision and a colossal weight on her chest left her gasping for air. A loud growl reverberated throughout the room, shaking her to her core. Pushing some of its mane out of the way, Katie glared up at the blue-eyed lion. “Get off!” she wheezed.

The lion snarled, drops of saliva pooling from his too-large-for-comfort teeth. A punched out moan of surprise escaped her lips when his claws dug into her shoulders and drew blood.

“Lance?”

His tail thrashed in excitement as he leaned down and snarled again. His gaze slid over her, uncomprehending and distant. There was no familiarity in those slitted pupils.

Honerva laughed.

So this was the final trick. Clever, really. Two birds with one stone.

Not that she planned on letting the Queen have her way. “Lance, it’s me!” She managed to grab a fistful of his mane and tug. He growled, looking her square in the eye _and she was back in the lake._

_The vines had grown even larger, the waves rougher. They fought each other with spiteful fury. Katie struggled to stay afloat, only to be dragged beneath the surface. She spun head over heels before floating to a standstill. In the fading light, she could make out the bottom of the lake. A snarl of vines had pushed up through the silt and were entangling themselves around a familiar figure. She swam for a closer look, the need for air fading the closer she got._

_Lance._

_She grabbed the closest vine she could reach and ripped it off him. He glanced at her, his eyes glazed over with a purple sheen. “Pidge? What are you doing?” he whispered, each sound wrapped in a wavering bubble._

_Not bothering to answer, Katie kept tearing at the vines. “Come on!”_

_Lance nodded slowly and started thrashing, managing to get one arm free. The vines reared back and slammed into Katie’s midriff with one accord, shoving her away before redoubling their efforts to cocoon Lance._

_Katie bounced over the lake bed in a lazy arc, landing face first into the mud. She got on her hands and knees, her head spinning. Something glinted up from the mud, bright and comforting. She dug until the iron bracelet was fully unearthed and slipped it onto her wrist, not caring to wonder how it had gotten there. With this comforting bit of reality in place, she turned back just in time to see Lance swallowed by a mass of vines._

_She waded back to his side, and when a couple vines struck out at her she batted them away. They retreated into the soil, bits and pieces falling off in chunks. The others cringed back, trying to stay away while also keeping a hold on their prize. Just as Katie was trying to think of the best way to handle them, the cocoon bulged and broke, one of Lance’s hands flailing out. She grabbed it with her own (iron-free) hand and batted at the vines with the other. Their grip disintegrated into slime and rot, leaving Lance free to shake them away._

_He crowded close to her, eyes shining and clear with blue energy. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. She repeated it, tasting each syllable._

_“Isamu.”_

The lion carefully backed away, wincing over the claw marks in Katie’s shoulders. She sat up quickly, always keeping one hand buried in his mane. Looking around, she saw the other fey staring up at the throne.

The Queen was furious. Her eyes blazed with golden fire, her nails extending into talons as she slowly got to her feet.

The last grains of sand fell to the bottom.

A ripple of frightened gasps ran through the crowd as the roots holding up the room creaked and shook, dislodging earth onto their heads. Most of the bubbles popped, throwing shadows everywhere.

Lance shrank back to his original form and together he and Katie stood up, still clinging to each other.

For almost a minute, Honerva was too enraged to speak. Finally, “If either of you deigns to enter my woods again, I will wreak every imaginable and unimaginable torture upon you until death seems to you the sweetest of wines.” Her hand jerked toward the door.

_“Go.”_

Lance bowed, once, and whisked Katie out of the room.

* * *

 

They kept running until the trees thinned and they were at their old meeting spot. The fence waited for them, somehow more rickety and dilapidated than Katie remembered. She leaned against it and grinned up at Lance. “Isamu,” she giggled.

Lance blushed and kissed her cheek. “Yes.”

She grabbed his hand with both of hers. “My name is Katie.”

“Katie,” he murmured, pulling her in for a true kiss. She pressed up against him, eager for more, for everything he had to give.

He pulled back with his usual smirk. “‘Katie’. I think I was expecting a more uncommon name. Is that really it? Don’t you have an exotic middle name or something?”

“I- what?” Katie shoved him. “Here’s a better question: Why the hell would a fey keep cold iron in their subconscious?” She held up her bare arm.

He held up his own arm, pointing to the silvery scar on the palm of his hand. “How could I not?” Glancing down at the grass, he tsked. “There it is.”

Katie picked up the horseshoe. Large rust spots covered its surface as if it had seen many a rainy day. She looked around, catching sight of a few lights from her village, smoky and fading as the rosy light of dawn superseded their dim shining. Her family had to be worried sick. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Lance leaned back. “Will I be… welcome?”

“Always.”

* * *

 

One last trick.

Katie pushed the door open. It swung off-kilter, barely hanging on by a solitary hinge. “Mother?” she called, looking around the kitchen. The small fireplace was dark, the low table where her mother prepared meals was thick with dust. Every step kicked up dirt and grime. She paused and listened, but heard no sounds coming from their small stable.

The pantries, when she checked them, were bare. The dining room was empty, the small cabinet that held their cutlery was gone. A rat scampered across the floor when she checked her brother’s bedroom.

Empty.

All of her clothes were gone, her knickknacks and tools. Even the bracelet.

She turned to stare at Lance, he hadn’t crossed the threshold. His gaze was heavy, resigned.

“Where is my family, Lance?” Katie asked, her voice even.

Lance shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Did the Queen take them?”

“No.”

“Then where are they?”

Lance held up a hand. “Pidge, I don’t-”

_“Isamu!”_

Regret coated her mouth and throat even as he stumbled back, eyes too wide. She turned away and burst out of the front door, looking around. The nearest house was only ten yards to her right, and she knew Nyma was an early riser.

Katie pounded on the door until it opened, Nyma’s scowl turning into a shocked gasp upon seeing her. The older girl covered her mouth with one hand, looking Katie up and down. “You’re back?” she marveled.

“Yes. Where is my family?”

“You’re back,” Nyma repeated. “How? We thought you were gone for good!”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Nyma, where is my family?!” she yelled.

Nyma looked at the Holt residence. “They left. A long time ago.”

“What?” Katie clenched and unclenched her fists. “I’ve only been gone three days.”

“Katie…” Nyma clutched at the doorframe. “You’ve been gone for three years.”


End file.
